


fall down (to be picked up)

by LiliaNox, Menatiera



Series: Falling to your place [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agender Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel!Tony Stark, Demon!Steve Rogers, Demons, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, Fallen Angels, Fallen!Bucky Barnes, Hopeful Ending, King of Hell Steve Rogers, Multi, Pre-Slash, Steve Rogers POV, Steve acting like he's tough and bad but he's a softie, hints of past mistreatment, implied abuse/torture that never happens, it will be a series, it'll be a long way to each characters to reach their peak gay, look this is basically the setup of this universe, reluctant alliance, they'll get there eventually just not in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 14:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17920415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiliaNox/pseuds/LiliaNox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menatiera/pseuds/Menatiera
Summary: "The angel looked around with obvious disdain on their expression, until their gaze fell upon the throne. Their face fell and their eyes darkened, and anger radiated from them in sickening waves, almost like in sync with the uproar their presence got out of the crowd.Bucky yelped, and Steve gripped his hair. The situation was tense enough without his newest demon to make it worse."An unwanted visit from an upper cousin, what a surprise," Steve said, his voice sharp as a cut. The murmurs from the rows of demons fell silent immediately. They knew better than to try to talk over their King. "What do you want?"Steve didn't expect any of the events to happen, but he had no complains.----Our entry to the 2019 Winterironshield Bang! Fic by Menatiera and gorgeous artwork by the talented LiliaNox!





	fall down (to be picked up)

**Author's Note:**

> Great many thanks to everyone who contributed to this little fic.  
> Including, but not limited to, my awesome betas Faustess and Arboreal; my cheerreaders Lilia and Gavilan and many others who got snippets (including the Stuckony server) or listened to my whining; and Winnie who helped me with the title (the bane of the writer's existence).
> 
> Great many thanks to Lilia for the gorgeous, smoking hot artwork. It was a pleasure to work with you!

Steve didn't expect to get a gift like a new Fallen.

Greeting new members into his domain was a rare occurrence nowadays: most angels who were left among the holy ranks were proven and tested, not prone to weakness.

And Steve especially didn't expect a Fallen to try to fight the guards as they dragged him in - it was a him, Steve decided, masculine enough for a safe guess - and the Fallen was spitting and trying to hit Rollins who blocked his hand easily. Steve tilted his head and watched the newcomer struggling until he was on his knees in front of Steve's throne. Tiny flames still clung to the last feathers of his wings, now black and grimy, and naked except for the ashes of his own former self sticking to his new and raw skin.

The Fallen looked up.

His eyes were still bright, burning with the last remnants of his holy light that was draining away from him quickly.

He was trembling, but he straightened himself as much as he was able and spat in front of Steve's feet.

"If you think I'd serve something like you, you're crazy."

He slumped back almost immediately, and Steve knew it was because of the pain his new body was experiencing for the first time ever. He remembered his own transformation - the hazy first moments of his life as a Fallen, even if it was now covered by the benevolent mist of eons, was among his worst memories. He remembered how betrayed he felt, cast out by his own Father for the sin of love, stripped from most of his Light, tumbling in a body that was not an angel's anymore. Everyone here knew the struggles of a new Fallen, because they had been there once, weakened and disoriented and in excruciating pain for the first time in their immortal lives.

Steve's heart ached for the newcomer, even if his face stayed impassive. Not all demons were cursed with the gift of empathy, of understanding others' suffering as theirs. To most, the ability to care had been burned out with the Fall. It was a necessary part of their nature, of them being what they were and doing what they were meant to do. Creation decided to turn them into the forces of evil and made sure they fit the role. But it was part of Steve's punishment as the first Fallen to feel everything, not only his own suffering but others' too.

Steve straightened himself more on his throne. Once he had been known as Morningstar, the brightest one of the night sky, shining when the darkness was the deepest around him. His smile still held a twisted echo of that, as he looked down to the new member of the family.

"You will serve," he promised, and his voice might have been soft but it held power.

It had to, because Steve was the King of Hell and that meant he always had to be powerful. He couldn’t show any weakness if he didn't want to kill his own people. No matter his personal opinions: the new Fallen had to accustom himself to this world or he would fall victim to it shortly.

The Fallen didn't bow, didn't crumble. "I'm an ang--" he choked on the words, coughing up blood.

"You're not an angel of the Lord anymore," Steve corrected him, looking over him again. His hair was probably brown under all that soot, and he was admittedly handsome, strong jawline and-- and even though his eyes were no longer shining with Light they were still blue, not yet faded into the characteristic red demon-gaze. That would take a while, a few mortal weeks at least. There was something heartwrenchingly beautiful in someone who clung to his old identity this stubbornly, who wanted so desperately to stay true to himself, who fought tooth and nail against his own cursed fate.

The newcomer's pride reminded Steve of himself.

“What is your name?”

He remained silent.

Steve leaned forward  in his seat. “Answer me.” His power curled around the Fallen, a thin layer of cold threat covering the comforting warmth inside. The latter was only for the newcomer.

He looked up wide-eyed and frantic, but he finally answered. “Bucky.” It wasn’t an act of submission. He said the name with defiance too, trying to prove to himself he was still his old self with a name of an angel.

“Very well,” Steve spared a smile at him. Demons’ names changing with their nature was apparently a myth that was still common Above, and completely false. Demons took up new names when they got sick of the old ones, not because of any obligations. "You've Fallen, Bucky, you're a demon, and you'll learn what that means."

The Fallen was about to argue, trying to keep up the fight. Steve leaned forward, and put his hand on Bucky’s head. Steve was the King. With the slightest pressure, Bucky had no other option than to bow down, mouth opened to a mute curse, or scream maybe, Steve couldn't tell. Steve shouldn’t care.

He waved Rollins back with his free hand, the other still on the Fallen's bowed head. "Take him to my personal chambers."

The air in the room tensed. Rollins blinked in surprise. "Are you sure, Sir?"

Steve let go of the newcomer, who remained prostrate, and stood up. In this form, he wasn't the tallest in the room, but on the platform of his throne he towered above his subjects. Steve lazily stretched his wings out. This simple movement, as usual, silenced everyone: his wings were unique. They were red, soaked eternally with the blood he had shed before he was cast out, and probably that very blood was what prevented his feathers from burning when he had Fallen. His were the only pair of wings with feathers in Hell, even if they were burned black at the edges. He also sprouted his horns out just for good measure. He didn't light up the dark halo around his head, though. Even he recognized that would've been overkill in this situation.

"Did I stutter?" he asked, calm and dangerous, voice dropping almost a whole octave. He could _feel_ the shiver running through Rollins.

"No Sir."

"Then do as I said unless you want to join him."

The Fallen was too tired to fight effectively when he was dragged away. Steve could feel it in his bones, Bucky’s pain and exhaustion. He didn't look after him, scanning the room instead for potential challengers. No one stood up, no one stood out. Everyone tried to blend into the crowd when the King's gaze swept through them.

As they should.

One of his counselors, Maria dared to speak first. "What are your plans with him, My Lord?"

Steve flashed another smile at her. This one was full of teeth and threat, no trace of joy or happiness in it. It was an unpleasant, ugly gesture that Steve hated to do but knew just how useful it was. Hell didn't like softness, and ruling it meant he had to appear as the most ruthless of monsters, because seeming like he was ready to do the unbelievable usually spared him from actually having to commit it.

"I’m going to teach him his place, of course."

***

Bucky's presence shouldn't have changed anything in Hell, and it kind of didn't.

For a while.

Steve spent more time behind closed doors in his private chambers with the newest Fallen, and though no one knew for a fact what was happening there, everyone could imagine. Everyone could imagine the King of Hell breaking in his new pet.

Of course, everyone was wrong, but that was mostly the point.

Hell was an unforgiving place, and after a while Bucky understood that too. So when they first emerged from Steve's room together, their whole setup was to prove everyone's theories about the nature of their time spent.

Coincidentally, that was the day that held a shocking surprise even to Steve.

***

For a while nothing was out of order, and he did his usual routine, until he sensed the Light. He was on his feet before anyone else, commanding the guards away from the door.

The room buzzed with nervous energy, the demons with lesser senses not understanding the cause of the upheaval. Bucky looked up, just as confused as everyone else, and Steve placed a placating hand on the top of his head while he sharpened his senses. The Light wasn't directed against anything in particular, which was odd. It wasn't an attack, then, but Steve didn't know what else it could be. Under his mute commands, the guards cleared a broad path from the door to the throne. By the time the Angel arrived, surrounded by half a dozen nervous guards from the outer outposts, all of them pointing their weapons at the figure in the middle, Steve sat down again and was ready to greet them prepared for anything.

The angel looked around with obvious disdain on their expression, until their gaze fell upon the throne. Their face fell and their eyes darkened, and anger radiated from them in sickening waves, almost like in sync with the uproar their presence got out of the crowd.

Bucky yelped, and Steve gripped his hair. The situation was tense enough without his newest demon to make it worse.

"An unwanted visit from an upper cousin, what a surprise," Steve said, his voice sharp as a cut. The murmurs from the rows of demons fell silent immediately. They knew better than to try to talk over their King. "What do you want?"

The Angel felt so _solid_ as a presence, like a brick wall among veils. Their brightness made the lesser demons blind, their aura radiated in a way that made everyone around them twitch anxiously. Bucky squirmed at Steve's feet, but Steve couldn't risk looking down, especially not because the Angel stared directly at Bucky.

Unfortunate.

Steve knew exactly what the visitor saw.

Bucky's bare wings were spread out on the floor in all their unholy darkened glory, his body naked except his shorts and the marks of Steve's teeth.  He wore elaborate metal cuffs on his wrists and ankles, and a leather collar with an attached leash on his neck. Steve's insignia, the red star, was burned to his left shoulder, branding him as the King's possession.

They had crafted the visuals carefully for maximum effect. They had only demons in mind at that time, not an Angel.

"I came for what's mine," the Angel announced - not hostile, but adamant.

Bucky squirmed again, his despair and embarrassment coming off of him in waves, and Steve was sure the Angel felt it too.

Steve forced out a theatrical, unhappy laugh. "Then you're in the wrong place. Go home, Angel, you're drunk."

The visitor finally looked up at Steve's eyes, confusion flickering through his emotions. Okay, Steve kind of forgot the holy cousins had no sense of humor, therefore didn't pay attention to human amusements. Their loss.

"I won't go home without my angel," they announced, standing before Steve's stare almost unbothered. _Almost_.

Something in them moved, though. Something akin to fear.

Steve smiled, dangerous, and his voice had a soft edge his demons had learned to dread, but the visitor didn't recognize yet.

"There is no angel here but you. And right now you can go home unharmed and _alone_ , cousin, but my patience is running out."

The visitor tore his gaze from Steve and looked directly at Bucky. Steve's fingers tightened in his newest demon's hair protectively. Bucky's worry oozed out of him.

"I see one on the tipping point between light and darkness, King of Hell. Let him go and in return I won't slaughter everyone else in here."

Whispers broke out in the room.

"No, Tony..." Bucky tried to speak up. Steve pulled his hair to make him quiet, but of course Bucky could do stubborn like nobody else, so he tried again. "I'm past that po--"

The leash was in Steve's hand in an instant and he yanked hard. The collar tightened, cutting Bucky's voice. "Silence," the King ordered firmly, and everyone obeyed.

Steve stood up and started to transform. Usually he held his force back, kept his essence under the lid for his subjects' comfort, and for his own as well. But right now he let some of that suppressed power be seen, and he was looming over everyone, three sets of dark wings stretching out on his back from wall to wall, casting shadows. Steve's twisted-dark light radiated from him, ancient and powerful.

The Angel - Tony, apparently - emitted their own light in return, bright and beautiful and not tinted by Fall. They were strong, but they were in foreign soil, out of their element. Still they planted their feet more firmly and raised their chin and stretched their six wings, arms loose at their side, ready to fight.

They would have been a match, an amusing fight, but if things turned to that, they would inevitably lose - at least against the King. Still, they could cause some damage, and that wasn't something many could claim.

"You are out of line, Seraphim," Steve warned the Angel, stepping in front of them. He didn't fear him - unlike his poor demons who were mostly trembling in face of the Light they hated so intensely because they adored and craved it too much. "There is no return for my pet," he stood too close, whispering his warning only to them with narrowed eyes, "and if you challenge me, I'll have to kill you both."

It wasn't a threat. This was a _fact_. Steve had his own people to look out for. Even if Heaven didn't count demons as people worthy of any protection, Steve did. Steve had to keep his kingdom relatively safe and away from more evil hands. He wasn't pure or good by any standards, but he did his best to keep everything under control.

Tony might have sensed something, because they changed tactics.

"There is a way for him," they argued, loudly, dialing back their light. "Exchange me for him."

Steve jerked back like he was hit.

It was an impossible situation. In their shared time, he had come to know Bucky, and he had come to like Bucky. His newest demon was strong-willed, funny, challenging and beautiful. Steve wouldn't mind keeping him around, spending more time with him.

But the offer was... incredible. Incredibly generous. An Angel, a _Seraphim_ , was worth way more than a demon. To have one in his possession was an opportunity Steve simply couldn't refuse without seeming weak and ridiculous. He had no doubt his refusal would've been seen as a sign of fear, and that would lead to challenges, and therefore he'd be forced to kill the bold ones who tried.

An Angel in Hell. Steve tasted the thought. It was unheard of, but it held so much power and potential.

"Sir, please," Bucky said, straightening up for the first time since they had entered the room.

"Bucky," Steve warned him without looking back.

"My Lord!"

Steve whipped his head there. Bucky never addressed him as his superior, as his Lord before. Now he did, his feelings desperate, and he raised his hands toward Steve, palms up, in a gesture of begging. "My Lord, don't accept the offer, please," Bucky whispered. He didn't cry. He didn't play himself. He didn't have anything else to offer but himself, so he offered that.

Just like the Angel offered themselves for their Fallen brother.

Steve wasn't sure what would happen to Bucky. He wasn't sure if the Angel was right or not, that he could be taken back to the Heavenly ranks, but he doubted it.

And yet he couldn't refuse the offer. His personal feelings didn't really matter here. He was the King, and he had to act accordingly.

"The Seraphim is worth more than a pet," Steve forced out the words in a steady, even voice, loud enough that everyone present could hear them. They hurt, hurt him and Bucky as well, but he had to bear this. This was the lesser evil.

The Angel nodded and held his hands out to get tied. Steve felt the cold calculation coming from him. Tony was stronger than the demons and they knew it.

Steve stepped forward and instead of ropes, he placed his palm on the seraphim's shoulder. He smiled, not unkindly, but still with an threat lurking in it. "Hold on, Angel." He looked around, registering every gaze fixed on them, every demon waiting in tense silence. They didn't talk since Steve ordered them to keep quiet, which was pleasant and convenient.

Steve leaned forward to whisper to their ear. "Swear! Swear on your Grace, swear on your life, swear on _his_ life all at once. Swear that from now on you accept me as your Lord, you'll obey me and won't go against my orders, swear that you won't kill my demons without being ordered to do so."

Tony stared at Steve with horror.

Steve stepped back and pretended he didn't care about the effect of his words, spreading his wings again. This time when he spoke, everyone heard his words. "Swear and he's free to go. Swear or the deal won’t happen and my pet remains here and you die for your nerve to come to the heart of my Kingdom and threaten me."

The Angel hesitated. But then he looked at Bucky, and that was enough to steel his determination. He had came here with the mission of saving the former angel, and angels lived for their missions. "I swear," he said out loud, then stepped closer, and whispered the rest only to Steve's ear. He repeated Steve's words, binding himself more effectively than any rope or chain could.

Steve snapped his fingers, and the leash that was in his hand again caught fire, burned in mere seconds, as well as Bucky's collar. Flames licked the sensitive skin of Bucky's throat without hurting him for a few seconds, then it was done. “Bucky is free to go,” Steve announced. “Anyone who touches him, speaks to him or even looks at him will be hunted down.”

Then he turned back to Tony, rested his left hand on their face, his thumb caressing their chin, while he put the right on the top of their head. "I accept your loyalty, Angel."

Bucky was free.

Tony was trapped.

***

The Angel went willingly the moment Steve snapped his fingers and pointed him to the right direction. Steve knew they would obey - it was in the angelic nature. They swore loyalty and it bound them.

He looked at his demons. “Everyone is dismissed,” he announced firmly. “Get out until tomorrow.”

Lastly, he turned to Bucky, who sat on the floor, still shocked by the turn of the events. He didn’t touch him. “Go home, Buck,” he whispered, more softly than he’d planned. “I’m sorry. Go home, see if they take you back. The Seraphim seems very sure that the exchange will redeem you.” Steve had his doubts, but, well... nothing like this had happened before, no high-ranking angel had ever offered themselves in exchange for a freshly Fallen sibling.

Bucky looked up. “Why did you do it, Steve?”

Steve glanced around. No one looked at them, but that was fair: they weren’t allowed to look at Bucky anymore, and Steve stood right next to the Fallen. But that didn’t mean they weren’t listening.

“It was a good exchange,” he said. “Go home. You’re free.”

He walked away and didn’t look back. Maybe that was a mistake.

***

When Steve walked into his room,Tony had his blade in hand, pointed to his chest. Steve sighed. “You too?”

The Angel arched his eyebrows, slight confusion coming off of him. Steve slowly reached out, and grabbed the blade.

His blood dripped to the floor, a steady _plink-plink-plink_ sound as the edge cut deep into his flesh. The burnt agony of the sacred blade was familiar from the first War. Pain had been Steve’s friend since then. A grounding, an anchor, a reminder. He smiled at the Angel as he pulled the sword toward himself, and it slipped out from Tony’s hand almost effortlessly, the angel too shocked to hold against it.

Steve carelessly threw the weapon aside. “C’mon, Seraphim.”

“My name’s Tony.”

“You don’t say,” Steve replied.

“I swore only to obey you, and to not hurt your demons. There was nothing in there about not hurting you,” the Angel pointed out

“I assume Bucky learned stupidity from you.”

Tony gritted his teeth, and Steve barely resisted the urge to scrutinize their emotions more. They… felt intensely, for someone from the Holy Ranks. Angels usually had only the barest sets of reactions. The reason most demons went mad was mostly because they couldn’t handle the intense emotions that they suddenly felt with their whole onslaught.

“What did you do to him, Morningstar?”

Steve sighed again and sat down on his bed, stretching his wings and popping his neck. “Helped him survive. I really hope you’re right and Heaven takes him back, otherwise he’ll be in trouble.”

Tony nodded confidently. “They will, if he reaches the Gate he’ll have my Grace.” They smiled at Steve smugly. “You won’t have it to turn against us, Morningstar.”

“Call me Steve.”

He didn’t mean it as an order – mostly didn’t, even though the angelic name was an old familiar sting – yet the angel nodded. Steve dragged a hand over his face.

Right. Tony might have been creative, coming up with all of their plan on the spur of the moment, and powerful and handsome and intuitive, but they still were an Angel, bound to obey. Not as chaotic as the demons Steve was used to ruling.

Tony still grinned, sure that he played Steve well.

Steve smiled back at him. “So this means I have to squeeze every ounce of Light out of you as fast as I can? I wonder how long would that take.”

The color didn’t drain from the angel’s face, but their emotions shifted back to fear. “You…” _wouldn’t_ , they probably wanted to say before they realized they were talking to the King of Hell. “I will kill you,” they threatened instead.

Steve yawned and turned on his stomach. “Without your Grace? Sure thing, buddy.” When Tony moved to get closer, Steve raised his hand. There wasn’t power in that gesture, just a warning. “You don’t have to worry, though; I’m not planning to do that. I don’t want to hurt you at all. Sit.”

He patted to bed, and Tony marched there to sit down tensely. “You don’t?”

“You put me into a position where I couldn’t _not_ accept your offering, but it cost me a lot. I liked Bucky, and I’m worried about his fate. If he is taken back though and can be happy up there again, then it was worth it, and I won’t give a shit about your Grace. You will lose it bit by bit anyway, probably.” Maybe it’d be better that way. There really was no way to tell – the situation was unique.

“Why do you care?” Tony asked, and if they weren’t an Angel, Steve would say they were bewildered.

There was a loud bang on the door.

Steve frowned. Demons were bold, but not enough to disturb him when he was obviously busy.

“Go away,” he called out, annoyed.

The banging was repeated. “Yeah, that didn’t work the first time and won’t work the second, pal.”

Tony and Steve jumped to their feet in unison. The voice, though muffled through the door, was without a doubt Bucky’s.

Steve stormed across the room and yanked the door open, scowling. “What the everloving hell are you doing here?!”

The Angel was _shining_ and _vibrating_ behind him. “This is not what we agreed on!” they growled.

Bucky waltzed in seemingly undisturbed and closed the door softly behind himself, locking out everything and everyone might listening on them. “Well good to see you too,” he said, “change of plans I guess.”

Steve banged his head on the door.

“You were supposed to go home!”

Bucky’s lips twitched to a sad smile, and Steve wanted to hug him because Bucky suddenly felt very tired and lonely and sorrowful.

“I don’t have a home up there anymore,” Bucky stepped forward, positioning himself at equal distance from Tony and Steve, and reached for the both of them. “I’m not an angel anymore. I can’t go back. But you offered me shelter here, Steve.”

Tony couldn’t suppress a disbelieving huff. “Didn’t look like it.”

“Oh, come on,” Bucky scoffed as well, “don’t let yourself be fooled by the _looks_ , Commander.”

Steve straightened himself. “This won’t work.”

“You were marked and chained!” Tony argued.

“That was the least I could do to for his kindness to not go to waste!” Bucky countered, his face heating up with mortification.

“Guys,” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

“He’s the King of Hell, Bucky, he isn’t _kind_ , he’s using you and your naivety!”

“Fuck you, Tony. You don’t know anything of what happened between us, you just saw the outcome and are quick to judge!”

“ _Enough!_ ” Steve snapped. The Fallen and the Angel shut up. “Bucky, how did you even get to my door without being stopped?”

Bucky scoffed again. “No one is allowed to look at me or touch me or stop me, so they couldn’t even acknowledge me coming here. Your orders, Stevie.”

“Stevie?” Tony was taken aback.

“Dammit,” Steve murmured. “That was so you can _leave_ undisturbed and safe.”

“Yeah, and an obedient Angel probably would’ve done that,” Bucky shrugged. Tony winced at the words, but Steve couldn’t focus on them. “I am a dismissed Fallen. I have no one to answer to. I can do whatever the hell I want.” He blushed a little. “I have no place in Heaven, I couldn’t go back. So I came back to you.” He lifted his chin in a challenge. “Try to stop me from coming back without accepting me back into your service, King.”

Steve banged his head on the door again. “Fucking angels.”

Bucky beamed. “You’d be bored without us.”

That was, sadly, also true. Steve groaned.

Bucky looked at Tony, then took a step closer to Steve. “My Lord?” he asked, softly, tentatively, and now his insecurities showed themselves.

Steve opened his arms. “Come here you lump,” he asked, and Bucky burrowed himself into Steve’s embrace, and their hug warmed Steve up in a way he didn’t expect to happen, and especially not so soon. But Bucky was perfect in a way Steve rarely felt anyone to be. “I’m not a Lord in here, stupid little Fallen.” He sank his fingers to Bucky’s hair, and pulled him away just enough to kiss his cheek.

Bucky sighed and smiled, content. “I know,” he said, and buried his face in Steve’s neck.

Tony’s stare felt like burning holes to them, but they didn’t pull apart for a long time, enjoying the comfort of the embrace.

It was Steve who ended it, then. “Okay, Bucky. I may not be a Lord at the moment, but I think we still have a mission.”

Bucky looked up, curious and confused. Steve’s smile was mischievous as he turned his gaze to Tony, enjoying the way they uncomfortably shifted their weight to their other leg at the center of Steve’s attention.

“I think we have an Angel here and we should take care of them.”

Bucky’s mood brightened. “I have a few ideas if Tony is on board with them.”

“I figured you would,” Steve nodded, and let Bucky go. “You can have some privacy in the bathroom.”

***

Steve didn’t listen in on them, and he averted all of his other senses too. He had promised privacy, and he might’ve been a demon, but he kept his promises.

He only knew that once they emerged from there, Tony stood in front of Steve, and looked him dead in the eye. “I’ll see this for myself,” they promised.

Steve had a few well-educated guesses what they meant. He could imagine what Bucky would tell them, because he had lived and sensed through Bucky’s bewilderment in the last two weeks every time Steve did something _kind_ or  _gentle_ thing to him. Every time Steve treated Bucky like a person, an individual worthy of affection.

Heaven wasn’t a place for that. Angels were servants and warriors, tools and pawns in the big board game of Creation. They served and obeyed, they fought and died for their Father. Steve knew, he had been there, he had rebelled against it and was banished and since then he tried to be, tried to do better.

Even if the stage was tilted against him and the dices loaded against him, he tried. He did the whole facade of being the evilest being Above and Below for this purpose.

So the fact that Steve hadn't been ordering Bucky around and didn’t force him into anything? That would’ve been mind-blowing from anyone, but from _the actual King of Hell_ it went against everything Angels had been told since the beginning of times.

Steve tried not to wonder which occasions Bucky told about to Tony in their limited time together. Maybe the first minutes, when upon entering Bucky had tried to knock Steve out with a candelabrum - and instead of being smacked down for it, Steve sat him down to explain the workings.

Or that first night when Bucky had had to deal with the first nightmare of his existence, and Steve comforted him to his best abilities.

Or the day after when Steve had helped to clean his skin from the ashes of his former self, or the week later when Steve had been allowed to burn the remaining snags of feathers from Bucky’s wings, working as gently as possible, finally easing Bucky’s pain with the action.

Maybe even the day before the Angel’s arrival, when they had finalized the next day’s scene and Steve had given his mark, burying the star into Bucky’s shoulder.

 _"This"_ could have meant a lot of things in regard of Bucky and Steve.

What id couldn't mean, however, was pain and torture and abuse. Because that, despite all the implications, never had happened between them.

Steve shrugged. “Eternity is ahead of us.” His actions would speak louder than words to prove himself to the Angel, anyway.

Just like he had earned Bucky’s trust before.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is short and kind of open-ended because I switched stories in the middle of the Bang and didn't have time and energy to write it further yet. So it's basically the universe's setup. More fics hopefully will come, because I have _IDEAS_. What i don't have are time and brain to write them, though.
> 
> If you liked it or want to know more about the upcoming fics, ask questions or yell at me, come visit me [at my tumblr](https://menatiera.tumblr.com/) or look for me in Discord (I have the same name, Menatiera, there too).
> 
> Please shower Lilia with praise - it was her first Bang, and she outdid herself with how amazing the whole scene looks in her picture!


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